


More than expected

by Nival_Vixen



Series: Witcher, bard, and sorceress [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Disaster Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Complete, Emotions, F/M, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Love, M/M, Multi, Plans For The Future, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Protective Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex Magic, Switch Jaskier | Dandelion, Threesome - F/M/M, Top Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, basically there's lots of sex and then there's lots of emotions and they all have to deal with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26605450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nival_Vixen/pseuds/Nival_Vixen
Summary: That's the thing with Witchers: you always get more than you expected.Or: Yennefer convinces Geralt that the best way to woo Jaskier is for both of them to greet him naked.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Witcher, bard, and sorceress [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013061
Comments: 26
Kudos: 346





	More than expected

Jaskier talks enough for three people across three lifetimes, so when he's rendered speechless, Geralt finds the silence both peaceful and worrying.

"Is he normally like this? He was there during my orgy," Yennefer states, a slight frown on her perfect face, though neither she nor Geralt move to cover their naked bodies.

"No, he's not, and we both were," Geralt reminds her, eyebrow raised.

Yennefer smiles then, broad and teasing. "The Mayor wanted the townspeople to love him again; he didn't specify how," she says, and her smile makes Geralt think a djinn would smile in the same way if they had a visible form. "I remember you offering me juice. You should have offered Jaskier to me, too."

"He isn't mine to offer, and when he finds his voice, he'll be sure to remind both of us," Geralt adds, looking to the bard once more, with concern this time.

Jaskier opens and closes his mouth several times, eyes wide and gaze moving between Yennefer's naked form to Geralt's naked form as though he can't decide who to look at or where he should look or if they might kill him for looking.

"Perhaps we should put clothes on. I don't think this will work without words first," Geralt says, the underlying _I told you so_ clear without being said.

Yennefer rolls her eyes at the unspoken words anyway. "After all his risque songs, I honestly thought it would work. We both know Jaskier is no shy virgin," she mutters, sounding disappointed as she reaches for her dress.

Geralt's jaw tenses at the reminder. He is all too aware of how many lovers Jaskier has had, and while he usually ignores the tall tales and excessive weeping and longing songs, he doesn't like to think of Jaskier's lovers while he is naked and waiting for Jaskier himself. He sighs and reaches for his shirt.

"No!"

Jaskier's voice rings in the room around them, the sound a relief despite the raspy quality. Geralt and Yennefer both look to him, curious.

"No, please. You have no reason to cover yourselves because of my presence. No one should hide such beauty and strength," he says to Geralt and Yennefer respectively.

Geralt barely refrains from rolling his eyes.

Yennefer smiles and sits up, her dress falling off her fingertips, and leans forward expectantly. "Do go on."

Jaskier blinks and nods. "Of course. Uh, perhaps... do you need to be sitting on thrones while I do this? They're quite... imposing."

Geralt glances at Yennefer with another _I told you so_ behind his lips. She sighs, clicks her fingers, and the bright and lavish palace room around them disappears. They're in the inn room again in its natural - if grimy and darker - state. Yennefer looks at the room as though she'd forgotten what had been there only an hour before, then turns her intense gaze to Jaskier and waits.

Jaskier jumps at the realisation that he was meant to be wooing and charming. He moves forward and trips over Geralt's discarded pants, the black leather difficult to see in the dark. Geralt leaps off the bed to catch the bard before he hurts himself, and Jaskier whimpers and gingerly opens one eye when he realises he hasn't died.

"Are you hurt?" Geralt demands, rather than asks.

He feels Jaskier grip his hips and raises an eyebrow, tempted to drop the younger man entirely.

"Am I dreaming? You're still naked so I'm obviously dreaming and Yennefer hasn't killed me yet, so I'm _definitely_ dreaming."

"Why would I save your life only to kill you? It's a waste of time, precious resources, _and_ my magic," Yennefer says from where she's sitting on the bed, her purple eyes darkening at the sight of them before her, one naked body and one fully clothed.

Geralt lifts Jaskier to his feet gently, looking him over to ensure he really is unharmed. Jaskier is doing that back and forth goldfish impression again.

"I'm not dreaming? No, of course I'm not. You'd already be having sex if I were dreaming," Jaskier says, almost to himself.

This time it's Yennefer with the _I told you so_ expression. Geralt ignores her and grabs Jaskier by the shoulders, since he seems to be spiralling and still talking to himself. He gets a startled noise in response, brown eyes looking into gold.

"Jaskier?"

"Yes, Geralt?"

"Shut up."

The rough tone of his voice makes Jaskier's jaw snap shut and he nods weakly.

"Yennefer and I want to have sex with you. For some reason us being naked was decided upon as a better idea than talking. _To a bard_ ," Geralt adds to Yennefer over his shoulder.

"Maybe I just wanted to see you naked," Yennefer replies sweetly and Geralt can feel her gaze on his ass.

"Excellent idea, Yennefer," Jaskier says, and Geralt is positive the bard gives her a thumbs up behind his back. "However, as a bard, I really do appreciate talking before something like this happens. There have been far too many a morning when I wake up to an angry husband, father, or on one memorable occasion, a pig, and I don't tend to trust naked people for no reason. Especially when I have dreamt about this very thing for... well, since the djinn. Might I say you were very lively considering... uh, considering the near-death experience and trials you went through," Jaskier finishes quickly.

Geralt and Yennefer both ignore Jaskier's almost-mention of their ages and watch as Jaskier continues to talk.

The rambling is normal, and Jaskier is fine, so Geralt slowly releases Jaskier's shoulders. Jaskier, however, still has his hands on Geralt's hips and doesn't seem intent on letting go.

"Jaskier, surely you can do something better with your mouth."

Yennefer's drawling statement has amusement threaded through the words, but it's faint. Lesser men would be scared off, but Jaskier has been travelling with Geralt for years and knows how to pick up on small cues that others miss.

"Of course. I can demonstrate with yourself or Geralt, which would you prefer?" Jaskier asks, a courtier's charm and a rogue's smile.

Yennefer doesn't even hesitate with her answer. "Geralt."

Geralt prepares to be kissed and is thoroughly surprised when Jaskier drops to his knees instead. "Jaskier." His voice comes out raspier than he intends, the word almost a moan.

Jaskier grins up at him, broad mouth and white teeth. "I promise I won't hurt you," he says, curling a hand around Geralt's girth and opening his mouth.

Geralt bites back a retort. _One day the bard will hurt him; all humans do in the end, even if they don't intend to_.

His mind clears as Jaskier's lips wrap around his head. He's half-hard and it doesn't take long for the bard to make Geralt achingly hard between his skilled mouth and nimble fingers.

"Geralt, tell me what he's like. Is his mouth as skilled as we both imagined?" Yennefer asks, standing from the bed and walking over, her hand resting on Jaskier's head, her fingers curling in his hair.

" _Better_. Yen, he... you should do this instead of singing. You'd be rich in a day," Geralt groans.

Jaskier looks offended when Geralt meant to compliment, and he cups the bard's cheek, his mouth swollen and leaking.

"I don't think I could share you with others in this way, though. I may even be jealous of Yen later."

Yennefer smiles at him, sharp and wicked. "And who's to say I'm not jealous of you right now?"

Jaskier makes a noise that they both ignore. Yennefer's hand tightens in his hair and Jaskier moans around Geralt's cock, making him jerk deeper into his mouth.

"Fuck!"

Yennefer is still smiling, watching as though she's testing him, and Jaskier is on his knees between them with Geralt's cock in his mouth, looking faintly alarmed as Yennefer moves his head at her whim.

"You wanted this, Yen."

"You wanted it more. I've seen the way you look at him, Geralt, and the way he looks at you. This was far too easy to set up so you can get you over yourselves. You're lucky I like to watch," Yennefer says, eyebrow raised and amusement in her eyes.

Geralt can't exactly argue, considering this is as turned on as he's been in some time, and Jaskier has his cock in his mouth so he can't argue either way.

"Now, Jaskier, make Geralt come as hard as he ever has before and then you get to go down on me. That part _isn't_ negotiable," Yennefer adds in a mock whisper.

Jaskier renews his task of stroking and sucking on Geralt's cock with vigour, Yennefer's hand still in his hair, though she's scratching at his scalp now. Geralt watches her, wonders how this benefits her in any way, then Jaskier does something with his tongue that has Geralt's eyes rolling back into his head. Yennefer takes the opportunity to lean forward, licking and biting at the pale column of his neck.

Geralt is too vulnerable, too exposed, all of a sudden, and he tries to pull away. Yennefer sighs and slips away from Jaskier who moans a protest without letting go of Geralt's cock.

"You still don't trust me, Geralt," Yennefer murmurs, sounding genuinely disappointed. "I'm as naked as you are, but it doesn't matter. Even fully clothed, the bard has more of your trust than I do."

"I trust you - " Geralt says, his voice thick. It's not a lie, but not quite the truth, either, and they both know it. " - and is now really the time to talk?"

"You're the one who wanted to talk in the first place," Yennefer reminds him easily, her eyebrow rising.

"Yes, to the bard," he says, fisting his hand in said bard's hair while Jaskier moans around him and Geralt's hips jerk forward in response.

"You can talk to me, too," Yennefer says, a pretty pout on her lips.

"Fuck."

Yennefer shifts around the two men, trailing her nails along Geralt's biceps, stroking Jaskier's cock-swollen cheek, gripping Geralt's arse to make him rise on his toes and fill Jaskier's mouth at a deeper angle. Jaskier's eyes roll back and his mouth drops open further, and fuck, Geralt can feel his throat against his cock.

"You can't let go of your control, can you, Yen?" Geralt breathes out once he can breathe again.

Geralt has seen Strigas with pleasanter smiles than the one Yennefer graces him with. Then her features soften and she stands over Jaskier to kiss Geralt, expertly and as perfectly as the rest of her. He hates those kisses and she knows it. Yennefer pulls away, lips shiny and plush, and Geralt growls as he pulls her back and kisses her properly with teeth and tongue and far more emotion than something like perfection allowed.

When they pull away once more, Geralt is breathing heavily and Yennefer's mouth still looks the same, but her eyes have a fire in them that would rival any hellfire. Below them, Jaskier's mouth has gone slack, and he sucks noisily as if to remind them that he's there.

Yennefer smiles down at Jaskier, far friendlier than her previous smile, and Jaskier's eyes go wide. "You're doing so well, Jaskier. I don't think Geralt's ever had better cock sucking. Myself included."

Jaskier makes a noise of surprise and disbelief, but his cheeks turn a rosy hue that makes Geralt wonder if it's the praise or the fact he has two naked people standing right above him. He hadn't been this shade of pink before, the dusty shade of pink that the setting sun would turn to a blazing red. He's been travelling with the bard for far too long if this is the way he's thinking now. Geralt nearly shudders to think what he might say aloud if pressed in that moment. Thankfully, both Jaskier and Yennefer are preoccupied and don't notice his internal dilemma.

"In fact, I quite look forward to seeing what that talented mouth of yours can do with me."

Jaskier tries to pull off Geralt's cock but Yennefer isn't the only one with control issues, and Geralt doesn't let him move. Jaskier makes a face as if to say 'really, Geralt?!' complete with eye roll, but Geralt ignores him and keeps his cock moving in and out of Jaskier's pliant and wet mouth without letting go of his hair. Jaskier has a hand wrapped around Geralt's cock, even though Geralt is perfectly fine and capable of moving on his own. Jaskier doesn't issue another complaint and instead holds his hands up to Yennefer as if for inspection or further praise. Geralt misses the warmth around his cock almost immediately but refuses to admit that aloud, either.

Yennefer doesn't seem to understand what Jaskier's trying to say either, and Geralt stills his hips long enough to look at Jaskier properly. Jaskier does another eye roll, to which Geralt raises an eyebrow in response, then makes a huff of noise that really does something to Geralt's cock, _fuck_. Geralt opens his eyes to see Jaskier miming playing a lute.

"Oh. He's also good with his hands," Geralt translates when Yennefer just looks between them.

Jaskier makes another muffled sound and Geralt can't stop the twitch of his hips in response, but he looks pleased that Geralt understood him. Yennefer's eyes darken and she licks her lips, and Jaskier suddenly looks like a sacrificial lamb before a hungry wolf.

The ground beneath them is transformed and Yennefer sits on an ornate pillow as easily as she had sat on the throne earlier. Surprisingly, Jaskier doesn't immediately go for the wet and enticing warmth that even Geralt can see glistening. He licks at Geralt's cock and instead moves a hand to stroke and caress Yennefer's thighs. Geralt wonders if he's nervous; Yennefer is certainly different to the usual women Jaskier has bedded before.

Yennefer looks as surprised as Geralt feels at Jaskier's unexpected action; Geralt wonders how long it's been since she was last surprised by anyone as human as Jaskier. Then Jaskier does another one of those things with his tongue that has Geralt focusing on nothing but his own pleasure and his hard cock in Jaskier's wet mouth.

Yennefer's soft groan is more than obvious, though. It's the same sort of groan she makes when she's riding his cock, and Geralt can't help but look down to see what Jaskier's doing. He's still stroking her thighs, but his hand is moving in a sweeping motion across both, as though he were painting an ornate landscape that only he could see. Jaskier is getting distracted by Yennefer, simply opening his mouth for Geralt's use while he concentrates on stroking Yennefer, and Geralt can't help the rush of jealousy. _It's her thighs, why is he so focused and why is she groaning like that already?_ Geralt can hear a rush of noise and he belatedly realises that Jaskier's not even touching Yennefer's skin at all. He's running his fingers mere millimetres above her thighs and Geralt doubts the sacrificial lamb ever looked so smug before. How he manages that, even though Jaskier's mouth is stuffed with his cock, Geralt will never know.

"Touch me already!" Yennefer snaps, half desperation, half demand.

Jaskier swallows hard around Geralt's cock, and stops teasing Yennefer, his fingers deft against her clit and her labia. Yennefer's moan rings out longer now that Jaskier's finally touched her, and Geralt knows she only uses magic during sex when she's losing her control. Jaskier is, apparently and surprisingly, just as good as his songs make him out to be. Now that Jaskier's attention isn't focused solely on Yennefer, Geralt starts up a more punishing rhythm designed to get off as soon as possible. It's not a competition between himself and Yennefer, except it definitely is, and it's one he is suddenly desperate to win.

Geralt glances down when Jaskier brings teeth into this, and raises an eyebrow when Jaskier obviously has something to say that isn't "choke me on your cock, Geralt" and looks thoroughly annoyed to boot. He pulls out slowly and carefully, in case Jaskier changes his mind, and glares when he doesn't. "What?"

"Ladies first, Geralt," Jaskier rasps.

"Then work faster," Geralt replies, raising an eyebrow and waiting for Jaskier to open his mouth again.

Jaskier swallows hard, licks his lips to gather moisture back in his mouth, then eagerly takes Geralt's cock again.

...

_If Jaskier's mouth is talented, then what are his hands?_ Yennefer can't think of a word to describe them. In fact, she can barely think, only feel. Jaskier's calloused hands are warm and alive in a way that she hasn't felt in years, even with the Mayor's orgy. She feels that warmth and aliveness flowing through to her with each pass of his hands, and now that those hands are actually on her, Yennefer needs more. She is curious enough to let Jaskier do as he wishes for the moment - _how's that for not being in control, Geralt?_ \- her hips bucking against the pillow and Jaskier's hands as he finally starts to caress her.

She is vaguely aware of Geralt and Jaskier talking but ignores it for the most part since Jaskier's hand is still stroking her eagerly. Yennefer lets herself feel and, for the first time in a long time, she lets go of her control as well. She wants to grab Jaskier's hand and put him exactly where she wants and needs him to be for her to achieve orgasm, but... well, he's doing a surprisingly good job of that for himself. She has a brief thought about who might have taught him in the ways of women and pleasure, but doesn't care beyond that, so long as he continues to bring her pleasure.

Yennefer arches her hips as he brushes his thumb against her clit, her voice arching out around the room. Magic is flowing around her, building up, and she sees and feels previous orgasms she's had with various lovers over her many, many years. Yennefer watches her original self, her post-surgery self, her confident and secure self, herself with Geralt, herself at the Mayor's orgy, in beds and against walls, in taverns and homes, in the court, being taken and filled in every way possible.

Jaskier's calloused fingers rub against her sensitive clit, then slide down between her labia to stroke inside her, filling her in a different way than her own fingers. She's back to the present in that same instant, her previous selves no longer in the room, and Yennefer screams an orgasm that plunges the room into darkness.

She's vaguely aware of Geralt's orgasm and hears Jaskier splutter as he gets more than he expected. That's the thing with Witchers, and especially Geralt: you always get more than you expected.

"Um... Yennefer?" Jaskier's voice is wrecked and Yennefer hums gently in response, her body still tingling from her orgasm.

"Put the fire back on," Geralt says.

"You're warm enough for all three of us," Yennefer says airily, laughter in her tone since they can both see in the dark without an issue.

The human among them, however, can't and that is obviously Geralt's main concern. _It would be a shame for her to lose those hands if he killed himself in the dark_ , Yennefer muses. The fireplace lights up once more and she looks over to see Geralt cupping Jaskier's face, wiping drops off his skin with his thumb. Before Geralt can take his hand away, Jaskier turns his head to the side and sucks his thumb into his mouth.

"Fuck."

_Geralt is as eloquent as always_ , Yennefer thinks to herself, tempted to roll her eyes though she doesn't since she feels the same way right now.

"I wasn't asking about the fire, actually," Jaskier says when he's finished cleaning Geralt's thumb.

"Oh?" Both Yennefer and Geralt look at Jaskier then, his hair a mess, his lips red and abused, and his voice still raspy in a way that only happens when he sings for too long.

"I was going to... well, that is, you did ask, and... "

"Spit it out, bard," Yennefer snaps, impatient now that the tingling is starting to subside.

Jaskier makes a yelping sort of sound and Yennefer grins sharply. Geralt looks over from where he's gathering his clothes, determines they're teasing each other in their own way, and returns to his task.

"Can I still use my mouth on you? Please?"

Yennefer blinks, surprised for the second time that night. Fuck, for the second time that year, if she's truly honest. It's the most reverent way anyone's asked to give her an orgasm ever. Geralt included. Or maybe excluded; he wasn't the kind of person to ask when they were both consenting adults, and they both knew it.

"Yes. You can fuck Geralt's mouth now, if you'd like," Yennefer says, her eyes sparkling as Jaskier's mouth drops open.

"What?" Jaskier squeaks, his eyes opening as wide as his mouth.

"What?"

Yennefer looks between them and sits up, licking her lips in a predatory way. "You fucked his mouth, now it's Jaskier's turn to fuck yours. While he goes down on me, of course."

"Uh, the premise sounds... very, _very_ pleasurable," Jaskier says, his eyes still wide as a plate, "but how do we do that without breaking something? And by something, I mean me."

Yennefer smirks and grabs his calloused hands. "Trust me?"

"No?"

She laughs and pulls Jaskier close, kissing him oddly gently, like she knows and appreciates his human frailty rather than abhors it. "You will one day, bard. For now, trust Geralt," Yennefer says, and they start lifting into the air.

Jaskier yelps at the realisation, but then Geralt is beneath them, holding Jaskier's hips. He also takes the opportunity to undo Jaskier's trousers, the ties of material hanging by his sides. Jaskier gulps but doesn't get a chance to say anything as Yennefer tugs him down between her legs.

"Yen," Geralt says, an unfamiliar tone in his voice that makes her look down at him curiously. "Don't let either of you fall."

Ah, maybe it's not so unfamiliar after all. It's the same sort of "be careful" tone he uses prior to going into dangerous situations that anyone else, human or Witcher, wouldn't return from.

"Of course. You think my magic is so weak? Or do you question my control?"

Geralt just raises an eyebrow.

"Not to put a damper on your impending argument, but I am quite literally floating and while I'm not technically afraid of heights, I don't appreciate the - oh, gods!" Jaskier's rambling complaint is cut off by a throaty groan that Yennefer can feel against her thighs despite the distance between the two.

She grins when she sees that Geralt has taken Jaskier's cock in his mouth, then turns her attention to the bard who looks to be struggling to find purchase on something, _anything_ , while in midair. Yennefer rolls her eyes and puts his hands on her hips.

Jaskier breathes heavily against her thighs, his fingers curling into her skin, and Yennefer is sure she would have his fingerprints bruised and branded into her if he was any hotter. Before she can berate him for not putting his mouth to use - as he had asked - Jaskier licks at her eagerly. Yennefer tries to spread her legs to get Jaskier's mouth on her more firmly, but Jaskier's hands are surprisingly strong on her thighs and he keeps her still. She wonders if it's strength from lugging his lute around, or perhaps from his travels with Geralt, or maybe fighting off those husbands and fathers... and the pig. She almost laughs at the thought, but thinks better of it, and her urge to laugh turns into a groan of desire as Jaskier curls his tongue and sucks her clit into his mouth at the same time.

She doesn't normally pray nor believe in a deity - not after what she's done and been through, and certainly not when her only prayer for a child has never been answered - but in that moment, worship falls from her mouth in a haze. Her hands are in Jaskier's hair, so tight she wonders how he's not screaming in pain, but she also can't let her grip ease. Not yet.

Yennefer fights for control over her emotions - her magic keeps them steady, thank you very much, Geralt - and breathes heavily as she tries to focus on something other than Jaskier's unrelenting mouth on her. She spies Geralt's broad hands curved around Jaskier's hips, his fingers digging into the pert flesh of his arse, like he wants to bruise and brand the skin he's clutching as well.

Honestly, she doesn't blame him.

One of Jaskier's hands leaves her hip and Yennefer shifts as he curves an arm around her leg, wondering what he's going to do now. The anticipation reminds her of his earlier hands and she licks her lips as she watches and waits. Jaskier is still sucking and curling his tongue around her clit, but it's his fingers between her thighs that make her hips cant forward. He drags his calloused fingers against her smooth skin until he feels her wetness and then strokes his finger between her clenched thighs and wet lips.

"Who taught you these things?" Yennefer groans, not expecting nor wanting an answer.

She had been taught about sex at Aretuza, of course - there were numerous things that could be done with magic, but pillow talk often resulted in gaining information they could wield as easily as a Witcher and their swords and without using so much energy - but there was a difference between having sex for information and having sex for pleasure. Even sex with Istredd hadn't resulted in pure pleasure like this before.

...

Jaskier still isn't certain that he's awake and that this whole thing is real. Despite their orgasms and the fascination with pulling his hair, Jaskier could conceivably still be dreaming. He's floating, Yennefer and Geralt are both naked, and his most secret fantasy he's shoved deep into his mind is happening. It has to be a dream, there's no way they actually want him. Or perhaps, if they do, then they just want to use him. It's a single night and in the morning, everything will be the same. Yennefer will sneer at him, Geralt will snap and glare, and Roach... well, he doesn't know why he's thinking about Roach while he's got his face buried between Yennefer's legs and his cock is being expertly handled and swallowed by Geralt.

_Who taught you these things, indeed._

He's finally let go of Yennefer's thighs, his arm still curved around her leg and his fingers buried three-deep inside of her as he searches for the elusive spot. He knows when he finds it because Yennefer's legs fall open entirely and her hips push closer, trying to get more of his fingers, more of his tongue. Jaskier willingly and eagerly complies, rubbing his calloused fingertips against the spot inside Yennefer until she is crying out his name like a prayer, her clit between his lips and her walls clenching desperately.

Now that the lady has achieved her goal - second of the night, but not the last if he has a say in it - Jaskier can fully concentrate on Geralt's mouth on his aching cock. He's had plenty of blowjobs before, though none in midair. Yennefer is lying back with nothing to support her, though she looks at ease, as though she's on a firm bed or throne, and Jaskier envies her that. He doesn't want to look down, so he focuses on her thighs and the crux between them instead. He tugs Yennefer closer until his mouth can slide between her wet lips, watching her closely as she starts to caress and tease her own breast, her fingers pinching and rolling her nipple. It's almost hypnotic watching her, especially as Yennefer herself hardly seems aware of what she's doing.

Jaskier likes watching people mostly to gather information and inspiration for his songs - though he's fairly sure if he ever sang about this, he would be dead before sunset - but he also likes watching his lovers to see what they like and enjoy, especially when he can't do it for them. He once had a lover for three years and he only saw her five times because of his travels. Well, less a lover and more a mistress. _Though, she was the one married and he was her mistress? That doesn't sound right_. Either way, she loved him and the whole town knew it by the second time because he knew what she liked to do and he could do it well. The main point is he knows what people - lovers, his audience, angry townsfolk, Witchers, and apparently now sorceress' - like and enjoy, and what they respond to. Whether it's his words, his voice, his mouth, fingers, or cock, Jaskier is determined to make sure they get it.

Geralt's mouth is slick around him and Jaskier groans against Yennefer as Geralt attempts the same curling motion that Jaskier himself had done to him earlier. It's not a poor attempt, especially for the first try, but it's certainly not the best. Jaskier is willing to let Geralt practice on him as many times as it requires. _Practice makes perfect, after all_.

Jaskier's groan is well-received as Yennefer's legs clamp tightly around his head, and he licks and sucks and moans into her again. He moves his hips as carefully and desperately as he can manage in mid-air, trusting Geralt and belatedly, trusting Yennefer's magic as well. He's brought her two orgasms thus far and she hasn't let him fall yet, so he can trust her through a third surely. Jaskier's cock is aching and he needs to orgasm like an hour ago - perhaps when he first came into the room to find it a lavish court with two thrones and the naked people sitting upon them; he definitely should have orgasmed right then and there. _Maybe he did and they killed him and this is his afterlife?_ Surely he's done some good in life to have an afterlife involving endless sex with two people so beautiful and bewitching and, well, to be truthful, a little terrifying, but that works for him in so many ways. Honestly, it's any wonder Jaskier didn't know this about himself and his personal desires prior to meeting them. But no one mixes pleasure and pure terror like Geralt. Except Yennefer. Even though they're both soft and sweet, and actually care about the world, even though they're both growing older while he's the only one actually growing old. It's any wonder they're both terrifying; he'd probably be the same way if he had to watch his loved ones die. It's the same sort of stomach-dropping feeling he gets every time Geralt fights a monster - whether actually a creature or a human - that Jaskier is certain that this time will be the one that kills his Witcher. Yennefer, while he still doesn't know nor trust her completely, gets a look in her eyes that Jaskier swears he recognises on Geralt's face any time he watches him interact with a child, like she's afraid and wondrous all at once. Jaskier makes a sound of surprise when he realises that he might actually love them.

_They only want to use him for sex. This isn't going to end well for his fragile and sensitive emotions_.

Geralt attempts the tongue curl again and it's such an improvement that Jaskier loses all of his thoughts to the wind like dust as well as any emotions, apart from lust and desire, along with it. It's a lie he tells himself and almost believes, at least. Thankfully, he's not lying about losing his thoughts to the wind, and Geralt's hands and mouth, and Yennefer's body keep him occupied once more.

Jaskier forces himself to concentrate, taking the time to lick into Yennefer and rub at the spot inside her with renewed vigour. Several people over the years might have things to say about the way he was raised, but Jaskier knows he was raised to be a gentleman, and ladies are always first in matters of the bedroom. It's not a race, but it might soon be if Geralt keeps improving the way he is. Thankfully, Jaskier's resulting moans are something Yennefer is seemingly enjoying and he can feel her starting to flutter and clench around his tongue and fingers. He will win this not-race if he has anything to say about it.

It's then that Geralt pulls away from his cock, and Jaskier makes a whining sound of protest that is muffled against Yennefer, and he wants to glare down at Geralt, but that also means looking down.

"Geralt, I do believe the bard is trying to protest," Yennefer quips, far more raspy and breathless than her usual acerbic tone.

"Hmm."

Jaskier groans in frustration and tries to buck his hips, impatient because now that no one is touching him or his cock, it's somehow made it worse. He can feel the warm air from the fireplace, the slick wetness on his hard cock starting to cool down, and he wants something with friction and suction, and _how dare Geralt leave him like this?!_

"I thought Jaskier could fuck me."

Jaskier's orgasm hits him like a solid punch to the stomach, the air punched out of his lungs with a groan. Thankfully, Yennefer's third orgasm is on the heels of his own with the motion of his mouth against her clit, so he still counts that as her winning this not-race. He's vaguely aware that Yennefer lets them both float back down to the floor - a pillow beneath her, and a fur beneath him, which is oddly kind of her, even after three orgasms - but his mind is consumed by Geralt's words.

_He can fuck Geralt? Geralt wants him to fuck him? Did his ears hear him right? Perhaps it **was** a dream or the afterlife. Geralt wouldn't_... Well, Jaskier has to admit he never really thought Geralt would actually suck his cock but he did with determination and vigour; _who is he to say what people should or shouldn't do in the bedroom? Or against a tavern wall, or under a dinner table, or anywhere else the fancy takes them, really_. Jaskier simply thought Geralt wasn't interested in men in general, and himself specifically. That wasn't self-deprecation, it was realism - _and yes, he could be a realist, even with the soul of a poet and voice of a siren, thank you very much_ \- but now, from the mouth of Geralt himself, Jaskier has heard those words uttered. His spent cock twitches valiantly at the thought. Speaking of his cock, he looks over to Geralt and doesn't know whether to wince or laugh when he sees the seed spilled across his hair and face.

Yennefer just laughs, the sound breathless and gasping, like she's never seen anything so funny as a Witcher covered in... actually, it is quite funny, especially with Geralt's expression. He looks like he's never been covered in seed before either, and Jaskier can't help but laugh, if only to ease the feeling in his chest, trying to pull him down like a drowner in a river. He must have heard Geralt wrong, after all.

Geralt sighs at both of them, then sinks down to his knees beside Jaskier, his broad palm warm against his back. "Next time, then."

"Hmm. I definitely want to watch that. How long until you recover, our dear bard?" Yennefer asks curiously, stroking her fingers through his sweat-damp hair.

Jaskier can't respond. He doesn't know how or what to say, or how to convey the fact that he would have been ready mere moments ago, if only his body had been more willing. He still doesn't know whether this is a dream or his death.

Silence surrounds them, only the crackling of the fireplace to be heard, and Jaskier's vaguely aware of Yennefer moving in front of him, her hand reaching out to cover his back as well.

"He's still alive," Yennefer murmurs, as if to placate a concerned Witcher.

"I know. His heart doesn't usually beat this fast, though," Geralt replies, moving his hand again, and Jaskier wonders if he can feel his rabbiting pulse beneath his skin or if it's one of his Witcher senses.

"He did just have an intense orgasm in midair while between my legs; give the bard a moment to recover," Yennefer says drily.

Jaskier wishes he were the kind of lover to fall asleep after an orgasm so he could avoid whatever this is, but unfortunately, he is the type of lover who likes to stay awake and talk and cuddle. Neither Geralt nor Yennefer seem to be the cuddling type, and they're definitely not the talking type, but unfortunately for Jaskier, they're not the fall asleep type either. Fuck.

Geralt and Yennefer's hands leave his skin and Jaskier makes a whining sound that he's definitely never made before in his life, he'll have you know, but they both look at him as a result, and he knows he's blushing bright red.

"Please."

"The bed is warmer. Yennefer will dress you," Geralt explains.

They must have had one of their silent conversations that he's not privy to, especially when he's lying on the floor struggling to breathe, but Jaskier doesn't care about bed or clothes right now. He just doesn't want them to stop touching him, even for that short duration.

"Stay. Please."

"Of course," Yennefer says, her hand immediately returning to his hair.

They must have another silent conversation full of glares and eyebrow raises, but after a long moment and a huff, Geralt rests his hand on Jaskier's back once more.

Jaskier feels something in his chest ease at their touch, part of him certain that it's not a dream after all, not with their hands so warm and certain against him. While he can finally admit that, Jaskier's going to deal with the 'fucking Geralt' suggestion another day when he can fully appreciate the idea, like turning over song lyrics in his mind until he's certain that they'll work and fit together.

Jaskier might not be the kind of lover to fall asleep after an orgasm, but he finds he's exhausted now. Emotionally, certainly, and physically... well, he hadn't expected to be floating in midair ever in his lifetime, and that's taken its toll, too. He vaguely notices that Yennefer and Geralt have both moved to kneel beside him, each of them still touching and caressing him in a surprisingly gentle manner.

_He's found the way to bring both sorceresses and Witchers to their knees. He mustn't let the power get to his head_ , he thinks sleepily, even as he drowses off with their hands against his skin.

...

Geralt is clean now that Jaskier is asleep. He lies on the bed, Jaskier curled against his chest on one side, and Yennefer on the other with her arm curved around both of them. He thought it would feel suffocating between them, his senses desperate for freedom and release, but instead he feels warm and secure in a way that he hasn't since he was very, very young. It's not just warmth, he realises just as he's starting to fall to sleep, it's love. The realisation wakes him up completely, like jumping into a freezing cold river, except he still has Jaskier and Yennefer on either side of him. They keep him warm and afloat in that river, and he'll do the same for them, as long as they'll have him.

"Geralt?" Yennefer asks, her voice quiet in the darkness surrounding them, her voice oddly fragile despite only saying the one word.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think he will leave us? He'll want a family and children one day, a way to leave his mark on the world, just like every other human."

Geralt thinks about it for a moment; he tries to imagine a Jaskier with a wife and children, tries to think of a Jaskier that isn't a bard and travelling the world, and tries to conjure up a Jaskier who is settled in one place and doesn't wear extravagant and bright colours. He fails in each attempt and doesn't know how to respond to Yennefer's fears.

"I'm not going anywhere. Besides, I'm a bard; I've already left my mark on the world. As for children, I think there's been enough war and ruin in the world that we could find any number of orphaned children in any town we decide to stop in on our extensive travels. How many do you want, dear sorceress?" Jaskier asks.

Geralt hears Yennefer swallow hard, her hand moving to curl around her stomach. He wants to say something because he knows she wants a child borne from herself, but he doesn't know what to say.

Before he can think of anything to say anyway, Yennefer's hand leaves her stomach and reaches across his body to grasp Jaskier's hand tightly. "Would you still stay if I said I wanted all of them?"

Jaskier ponders for a moment, and lying between them, Geralt wonders if he should even be part of this conversation. They are talking about something he's never really wanted for himself, not with the life he leads, and yet -

"I can teach them to sing while Geralt teaches them how to hunt and track, and you can teach them magic. We could go on the road, it would be far safer than staying in one spot; I don't imagine your enemies will care if you have a single child or a brood of hundreds if it means they'll get to you, and being in one spot for too long makes my skin crawl. My enemies are less dangerous than both of yours, of course, but no less bloodthirsty for my head or certain parts of my anatomy to be served to them on a platter," Jaskier muses.

"You probably have bastard children scattered halfway across the country," Geralt says before he can stop himself, but Yennefer just makes a breathy laugh beside him.

"I am extremely careful not to impregnate ladies. Or men, for that matter," he adds with an indifferent shrug.

"What would this travelling family do for a living?" Yennefer asks curiously, her hand still in Jaskier's.

"Keep the world safe. For a fee, of course. Oh, and entertained. Not everyone can be a fighter or a sorceress."

"Not everyone wants to be," Geralt says and there's more truth to that statement than even he wants to consider. He wonders why his tongue is so loose tonight and wishes he hadn't said anything at all.

While Geralt can't see Jaskier settled or married or as anything other than he is, he can see Jaskier's vision of the three of them together, saving - and entertaining - the world side by side. For a fee, of course. Whether they adopt every orphaned child from the Blue Mountains to the Great Sea would remain to be seen. He wonders what they would say if he mentioned he would like a dog. Roach would like the companionship at times, he's sure, and dogs are good for hunting, especially when properly trained. _Besides, children like dogs, don't they?_

Jaskier surprises him by propping himself up on his elbow and squinting down at him in the dark, as if trying to see something beyond his face in the darkness. Geralt doesn't know if he finds whatever he's looking for, but some part of him hopes he does. Jaskier is still holding Yennefer's hand, but he moves without sight or feel anyway, and kisses Geralt firmly. He almost breaks their noses with his descent, Geralt grabbing him before he's injured, and kisses Jaskier in return. Yennefer watches them, her thumb stroking Jaskier's hand gently. Geralt feels like Jaskier's pouring every ounce of emotion that he can possibly feel into their kiss, a mix of love and desperation and desire burning against his mouth until his whole body's full of emotions he hasn't felt in years and nothing else matters but the next shaky breath between them.

Jaskier breaks away from their kiss, only to lean across Geralt's chest and capture Yennefer's lips as well. Geralt wonders if she's feeling the same things he felt, but doesn't want to stop that erotic slide of lips and tongue to ask such a ridiculous question.

They pull away and Jaskier stays in his position splayed across Geralt's broad chest, his calloused fingertips stroking tiny patterns against his chest hair. "Is it too soon to admit to love?"

"Never."

Geralt's surprised to hear his own voice. Love is a precious thing, no matter a person's age, and he can't stop Jaskier from admitting nor feeling it anymore than he can stop himself. Witchers have feelings, no matter what the rumours state, and while Geralt can admit that love is a complicated feeling he'd rather not have most of the time, he still feels it down to his very bones at times. He has love for the world around him, even more so when the people around him hate him on sight, and it's that love that keeps him going. Geralt is the kind of person who has an absolute need to see the ones he loves safe, and there's only one way he knows how to do that: by being a Witcher. 

Jaskier blinks and looks over at him like he's just as surprised as Geralt, but then he smiles broadly. "I knew it."

"Hmm?"

"You love me."

Geralt doesn't know what to say to that simple declaration. He freezes as he tries to think of a response. If he admits it, Jaskier could be in even more danger than he is just by being his travel companion. If he doesn't admit it, it would ruin their friendship because the lie would fester between them until he'd wake up one day to find Jaskier gone. He would end up alone again.

Yennefer, on the other hand, doesn't freeze up like he does, nor does she have the same concerns for Jaskier's future welfare, and laughs. "Of course he does, dear bard. Why else do you think I suggested this? Geralt wouldn't share his bed with any random stranger, let alone his heart."

Jaskier huffs, his breath tickling against Geralt's chest hair. "You haven't seen the people he's left taverns with."

Yennefer grins. "A quick fuck isn't the same as what we just did, dear bard. Even you can admit that."

"Well, the midair part was definitely new. And Geralt's mouth, and your... everything, of course - "

"Thank you," Yennefer says sweetly, like she's never heard such eloquent praise. "You weren't so bad yourself, bard."

Jaskier laughs and grins at her. "I know."

"Both of you shut up and go to sleep," Geralt says. His heart's beating fast in his chest and he needs them both to be quiet for so many reasons.

Jaskier glances over at him, sly and secretive in a way that's foreign to his face, then grins broadly and hitches his hips so Geralt can feel his hardening cock against his thigh. "I can fuck you now, Geralt. If you meant it, that is."

Yennefer turns her head to look at him, that same sort of expression on her face, and Geralt sighs heavily. "We all need sleep. You can fuck me in the morning."

Jaskier kisses Yennefer briefly, then Geralt, and returns to his position curled up against Geralt's side. "You'll have to teach the kids how to hunt and to be responsible. I'll teach them about money."

"With those clothes?" Geralt scoffs.

"Not wearing any," he quips.

Yennefer laughs again and Geralt realises it's the first time he's heard her laugh so much, and certainly so genuinely. Still, he scowls over at Jaskier. "Shut up and sleep."

"I'll teach them about money," Yennefer says after a moment.

" _With those clothes?_ " Jaskier scoffs, a poor imitation of Geralt.

"Not wearing any," she quips, laughter in her voice.

That sets both Jaskier and Yennefer off laughing and Geralt wonders if Roach's stable will be any quieter. He figures it might be quieter, but he would miss them both and come back eventually. Besides, Roach would probably kick him out if he tried. No matter what happens, he'll always come back to them.

...

The end.

Thanks for reading; hope you liked it!


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